Heroes R Us (15 page)

'Son, I thank you for saving me, but you've dashed a lot of hopes with what you have done. Please leave the company of these politicians and their dirty business.'

Arnab tried to say something in his defence, but realized it was futile. Things got only worse when the next day, a prominent businessman issued a statement that he believed the so called Guardian Angel was sabotaging his business interests by attacking his trucks at night, presumably because he had been paid to do so by business rivals. There was no proof offered, and even a cursory background check would have shown that the businessman was a key contributor to Balwant Singh's election campaign, but as often happens, the facts got lost in the hysteria and this provided even more fodder to news channels revelling in Arnab's fall from grace. The new 'Superhero Scandal' became the talk of the town, and in the rush to crucify the one who had till recently been the darling of the masses, everyone conveniently forgot all the things that he had done.

Arnab by now had descended into a full-fledged depression, and realized that no matter how strong he was; he knew little about such machinations and how to respond to them. Balwant Singh had truly extracted a terrible revenge, and Arnab felt alone and helpless. Khan was there to lend a sympathetic ear, but the old man could do little to help. The next night was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Arnab had intervened in an attempted robbery just after sunset, and while the robbers had melted away when they saw him, Arnab found himself confronted by an angry mob consisting of those whom he had thought he was rescuing. They shouted abuses at him, and one of them threw a pair of shoes at him. Arnab was taken aback, and not knowing how to react, ran home, the jeers and insults of the crowd ringing in his ears.

He spent an agonizing night thinking about his situation. He had finally found something he could remotely think of as a mission for his life- something that gave him a sense of purpose and made him feel like he was more than just another anonymous middle-class boy running in the rat race to earn a livelihood. That seemed like a distant dream now- all of it having been destroyed in one fell swoop.

How naïve had he been! Upadhyay and Balwant Singh had been proven right after all. One man, no matter how strong or no matter what superpowers he was endowed with, could do little to change the rot and corruption in the system they had created and ruled over. Arnab felt that perhaps he had just let his powers go to his head, and led himself to believe that he could challenge the likes of Balwant Singh and get away with it. Now he knew better. Then Arnab thought about how fickle public opinion was. Mindless drones! One day they were worshipping him, and the next they were throwing shoes at him! No wonder people like Balwant Singh could mess with their minds so easily. Perhaps it was true that people got the system they deserved- and why should he destroy his life trying to help those who couldn't even see who was really on their side?

Arnab's phone buzzed. It was a message from Aggarwal.

'Like I said, every man has his price. I would have paid better, and you wouldn't have got so much negative press. Too bad you didn't take my offer.'

Arnab flung his phone into a corner. He lay down on his bed again and closed his eyes, but there was little sleep to be had that night.

***

Arnab reached work the next morning and saw Jayantada tut-tutting to himself as he read the newspaper. He looked up at Arnab as he entered the library.

'Seen this superhero business? What a shame.'

By now Arnab had seen and heard enough to not react to one more dig at him, and he looked at Jayantada and said,

'Jayantada, this is no time or place for heroes.'

'You can say that again. By the way, Arnab, what happened to the exams you were planning to write?'

Arnab had been mentally kicking himself all the way to work that morning. He had been so carried away in his new life that he had totally neglected what had once been of utmost importance to him. The bank exams were in just a week's time and he was woefully unprepared. But then he had resolved that he was going to get his life back on track. He had forgotten who he was and what he had to do, so lost had he been in his delusions of grandeur. He was no superhero, and he would keep his accursed abilities a secret. He would get back to being just good old Arnab Bannerjee. He replied to Jayantada,

'One of the exams is next week. Jayantada, do you mind if I just stay a bit late in the library and study? I'll lock on the way out.'

'No problems. Best of luck.'

For the next few days, there were no nocturnal missions, no training sessions at Khan's place and no more run-ins with goons, in uniform or otherwise. Arnab hit the books with a vengeance, studying for more than a dozen hours a day. He would come into work early, and stay back late till six or seven in the evening, studying in the deserted library. Once back home, he would again immerse himself in his books. It was difficult to totally forget all he had been through, and he did have some lasting regrets- like the way things had turned out with Mishti, but Arnab decided that the only way to deal with what had happened was to forget the events of the last few months as if they had been no more than a dream, and to get on with his life.

On the day of the exam, Arnab asked Jayantada for a day off, and when he entered the examination hall, all his preparations of the last few days were distilled in a frenzy of writing as he began tackling the questions. He barely looked up to see what was happening around him or to even check the time. When he did finally look up, he had finished the paper, and realized that he had completed with a few minutes to spare. One final check, and Arnab handed in his paper and walked out, feeling that he had acquitted himself as well as he could have hoped to have done.

That evening, as he was sitting at home watching TV, he heard a knock on the door. It was Chintu.

'Uncle, mummy says that the superhero is not for real. Please come and show her. Please show her how strong you are and that you're the superhero.'

It suddenly struck Arnab that amidst all that had happened; he had totally forgotten that Chintu was the other person who had an inkling of his powers. Then he reminded himself that he was just being paranoid. Nobody would take a little child's talk about a superhero in the building seriously, especially when that superhero was Arnab Bannerjee.

'Chintu, there is no superhero. It was all a story. Now go on home, your mummy will be looking for you.'

But the little boy would not give up easily. He looked at Arnab with innocent, hurt eyes, pleading with him.

'But I know you're for real. I know. Please tell them that you're not just a story.'

'Chintu, there is no goddamn superhero. Now go home!'

Sobbing, Chintu ran away, and Arnab cursed himself for having lost his temper with a little child. Just then, Khan entered his room.

'Arnab, shouting at a child won't make you feel better.'

Arnab looked at Khan and knew what was coming so he pre-empted it.

'Khan chacha, I cannot do it any more. It is just not worth it. I just want to get back to my normal life.'

Khan sat down on a chair opposite Arnab.

'Arnab, why do you assume you can conclude whether it's worth it or not? Ask the hundreds, if not thousands of people whose lives and property you've saved. The people whom you've given some hope that there is someone who will stand up for them.'

Arnab was going to have none of it.

'Yes, the same people who are today out to crucify me! They deserve what they're getting.'

'Arnab, you don't really mean that.'

'No Khan chacha, I do. I mean every word of it. I have had enough. Enough of being a victim of circumstances, enough of being at the mercy of people like Balwant Singh. Finally, I'm going to lead my life the way I want.'

Khan decided to try one last time.

'Arnab, but don't you see? You were making a big difference. You had such a sense of purpose. What you were doing meant so much to so many people. Surely, it must be worth fighting for.'

Arnab was in a foul mood and instantly regretted the next words out of his mouth.

'Khan chacha, I can't mess up my life because it gives you a sense of purpose.'

A sad expression clouded over the old man's face, and he left without saying another word. Arnab slammed his fist into the wall, angry with himself for having hurt the man who had saved his life. But there was no way he was going to go back on his decision. As he turned on the TV, he noted with exasperation that the anchor was talking about him.

'As we've been reporting, the so-called superhero has disappeared. Perhaps he has gone into hiding after his scandals were exposed on this channel. Perhaps it is time we all learnt that we are indeed in the age of vice and evil and not an age where there are any genuine heroes to be found.'

NINE

Arnab truly felt that the best decision he had ever made was to get back to what had been his normal life. While he waited for the entrance exam results to come in, he dove into his work with an unprecedented frenzy. Even Jayantada, forsaking his usual sarcastic comments, took him aside one day.

'Arnab, I wanted to tell you something.'

'Sure, Jayantada.'

The old man shuffled a bit and looked down at his feet. Clearly complimenting someone did not come easily to him.

'Arnab, you have been doing your work so well that I feel like I don't even need to be here. Well done.'

Arnab just said thanks, but he was thrilled within, and contrasted how much easier it seemed to get appreciation for doing his job compared to the mess he had got into when he had begun to harbour delusions of accomplishing something more with his life. He met Jayantada just before leaving work to share something he had begun working on in his spare time- an idea to totally overhaul and computerize the library's records and catalogue. Jayantada looked it over with interest, while Arnab waited anxiously for his reaction. His biggest fear had been that Jayantada would resist changing how things had been done for years.

'Arnab, this is a big change versus how we have done things.'

Just as Arnab began to hang his head in disappointment, Jayantada completed the sentence.

'But this is a brilliant idea. I'll set up time with the Principal and I would like for you to present it to him.'

Arnab left college that evening feeling like he was on top of the world. On the bus ride home, he was engrossed in a novel he had picked up from the library, when he saw three boys get on the bus. Almost immediately, they started passing comments about some of the girls in the bus, and one of them walked up to a group of four girls and asked them if they were free for a date. The girls just hung their heads, trying to ignore him, while the other boys roared with laughter. When one of the boys reached out to touch one of the girls, she shrank back. Involuntarily, Arnab got up, scanning the situation. He would take out the boy on the right first. He had his back to Arnab and would never see it coming. The smaller boy on his left was to be next. A simple jab at short range would sort him out. The leader of the pack, the big lout now near the girls, would be last. Arnab would let him take the first shot, and then dispatch him. Sharpened with months of practice and action, all of that planning took a nanosecond, and Arnab was about to spring into action, when he stopped himself.

What was he thinking?

He had decided what direction he wanted to choose, and he did not want to look back, no matter how much he was tempted. He quietly sat down and tried to read his book as the harassment continued for five minutes, ending when the girls got off at the next bus stop. Back home, he did think about whether he had done the right thing by ignoring the incident on the bus, but every time he did so, he would glance at the newspaper clippings denouncing him as a fraud, opportunist, gun for hire or worse. No, he had chosen his path and would stick to it.

The next day brought with it a courier delivery boy who caught Arnab just as he was about to leave for work. As Arnab took the envelope and opened it, he blinked in disbelief a couple of times. The letter began,

'Dear Mr. Bannerjee, we would like to inform you that you have qualified in the written examination for the State Banking Services. You need to appear for an interview.'

He read no further and sat down, relief flooding over him. He had been hoping against hope that he would qualify, and while he had prepared as well as he could have, with limited time to prepare and the turmoil going on in his mind, he had never been sure he would make it. Yes, there was still an interview to clear, but clearing the entrance test was a big milestone that gave him the confidence that he could indeed make it.

The next week passed by quickly. His presentation to the Principal was a resounding success, and he got the funding and upgraded computer he had requested to put his system in action. All day, he would toil away at his new pet project, and from time to time, Jayantada would come and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder at what he was doing. He usually said nothing, but one day when Arnab called Jayantada to demonstrate how the system would look like and how to operate it, he smiled at Arnab and said,

'I have no idea how it works and I suspect I will have a tough time learning how to use it, but it is, as you young folks say nowadays, quite cool.'

With that, Jayantada walked off, chuckling to himself and leaving Arnab smiling in amusement. At night, Arnab would prepare furiously for the interview that was fast approaching. When he did go for the interview, it ended up being much smoother than he had anticipated. In school and college, Arnab had found himself tongue-tied whenever the spotlight was on him, but now he felt no fear. He walked into the room, looked the three interviewers straight in the eye, and calmly answered all their questions. When one of them asked what his goal in life was, he answered,